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Obama campaign spoofs Caller I.D. for phone harassment
All sorts of stories are coming out, about both the Democrats and the Republicans, and how neither party is holding to high ethical standards. In fact, the legitimate question that could be asked is if either party is being ethical in its campaigning.
Over the past few weeks, at least once a day, but more often three-to-five times a day, I have been receiving harassing calls from none other than Barry O. — good ol’ Barack Obama. While none are personal calls from the candidate himself, they are his recorded voice, and in a few of the calls, someone else.
1-800-825-8786 - Trump Taj Mahal Calling
When the FCC came out with the Do Not Call list a few years ago, it was a great thing. I went from getting around 10 to 20 calls each week to only two or three per month.
Now, a few years into the program, it seems like The Donald and his enterprises are getting the idea they are bigger than the FCC. Are they? Does The Donald think he can get out of fines from the FCC for violating the Do Not Call list by telling everyone at the FCC’s Enforcement Division, “You’re Fired!“ Pfft. Hardly. If that kind of thing didn’t work for Bill Gates, you know, the richest guy in the world, it certainly won’t work for The Donald.
Listen to the voicemail left by Trump Taj Mahal.
I always loved getting telemarketers on the phone years ago. Just for their benefit, I always kept items handy near the phone, such as confirmed “not-in-this-area-code” phone numbers, telling them to call me at a different number the next day, “When I had time.”
Sometimes I would pull out a random names with just random words and tidbits of information that I’d begin reading. My intent was to make them believe they reached someone in a mental institution. What else would you be led to believe if you called someone, they answered, and just after you said, “Hi, this is Marcie calling on behalf of Trump Taj Mahal in Atlantic City,” they begin jabbering such stuff as:
Joe Shmoe. Deli. Cat home. At 5. Witch hazel combs. Locks. Gold. Muhhh-kneeeee. 21771245 call me. Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Anyone home? Doctor? Mehhh-deeeeeee-sinnn! Scraps. Paper. Pills. Love. Sleep. Dooooock-tuuuuurrrr!
Ah, yes! The good old days. And boy, am I glad they are gone! I hated the phone ringing just as we sat down to dinner so much that I took to either turning off the ringer on the phone before we sat down to dinner, or I would take the phone off the hook. Both of those non-solution solutions offered their own issues. Family members trying to reach us about something pressing couldn’t reach us right away, instead finding their options limited to leaving voicemail messages, wondering why we didn’t pick up. Most of the time, though, there was nothing pressing on the voicemail. Sometimes, however, it’s someone, like your daughter, calling to say she had a problem and needed a ride home. That’s when you get upset.
The one idea others suggested over the years was to have a can of compressed air, which made one of those loud horn blasts, like fans carry to sporting events. Well, that sounded like a good idea. But what if I caused permanent hearing damage to the person on the other end? Just because the really made me angry by bugging me at dinner does not mean they need to be hurt for the rest of their lives.
Nah, let’s not hurt the poor saps earning a dollar bugging the hell out of us with their scripted words. Let’s just harass their bosses, their boss’ bosses, and their boss’ boss’ bosses. Maybe everyone could call the number in the voicemail that was left for me, ask for details, but what Trump’s Taj Mahal wants you to give your home phone number, simply give the number to your local Dead Poet’s Society.
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